Law360 Canada (October 20, 2026, 2:36 PM EDT) --
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| John L. Hill |
An
open letter, titled “Reconciliation and Reintegration Cannot Mean Exclusion,” challenges McGill University’s decision to exclude Jeffrey G. Ewert from campus after concerns about his presence were raised. The letter, addressed to the leadership of McGill University, notes that Ewert is an Indigenous man serving a life sentence, a survivor of the Sixties Scoop and was admitted to first-year law at McGill. The university’s Oct. 6, 2026, exclusion order barred him from campus until Oct. 28 and prohibited him from communicating with female students during that period.
The letter’s central argument is that a person’s criminal history should not automatically be a permanent barrier to education, rehabilitation and participation in society. It does not dispute the university’s obligation to protect students and staff. Instead, it questions whether exclusion was necessary, whether the safety concerns were adequately assessed, and whether McGill’s response aligns with its commitments to Indigenous reconciliation. For full disclosure, I should add that I have signed the letter.
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The signatories argue that Indigenous overrepresentation in Canadian prisons cannot be separated from the history of colonialism, discrimination, and the removal of Indigenous people from their families and communities. They contend that denying educational opportunities perpetuates the very patterns of exclusion that reconciliation is meant to address.
They also highlight Ewert’s contribution to Canadian law. In
Ewert v. Canada, 2018 SCC 30, the Supreme Court of Canada examined the reliability of psychological and actuarial risk-assessment tools when applied to Indigenous prisoners. The letter argues that Ewert’s experience and legal expertise could enrich future legal education.
The letter makes three requests: restore Ewert’s access to legal education, meet with him to address the harm caused by his exclusion, and conduct a comprehensive review of McGill’s decision-making processes affecting Indigenous, racialized and formerly incarcerated students.
Its broader message is that universities should confront difficult questions about criminalization, risk and reintegration through informed discussion and appropriate safeguards, rather than allowing stigma and fear to dictate who is welcome in an educational institution.
The letter is particularly noteworthy because its signatories are not merely members of the public expressing sympathy for a controversial student. Their stated professional affiliations include many university professors, associate professors and assistant professors, as well as scholars in law, criminology, sociology, philosophy, Indigenous studies, social work and political science.
The signatories also include law professors and practising lawyers with experience in criminal defence, prison law, human rights and correctional policy. Professional backgrounds include leadership roles in organizations focused on prisoners’ legal rights, reintegration and support for people leaving prison. The group includes a former federal Correctional Investigator, an experienced prison-law practitioner, people who work directly with incarcerated individuals and in reintegration programs, and people who have experienced incarceration.
That range of experience matters. University scholars bring expertise in research, legal principles and the social consequences of incarceration. Practising lawyers can assess the legal implications of institutional decisions. Those working with incarcerated people and their families can speak to the practical obstacles to rehabilitation. People who have experienced incarceration can describe consequences that academic research alone may not fully capture.
The letter also connects directly to McGill. The letter includes members of its Faculty of Law, other McGill faculty, law students and alumni. Their involvement suggests that the issue is not merely an external dispute imposed on the university. It concerns the institution’s educational mission, its treatment of a student and the meaning of its public commitments to reconciliation.
The qualifications are not uniform, and holding a university title does not make every argument correct. Some signatories are students, members of the public or professionals whose work lies outside legal scholarship. Nor does expertise in rehabilitation necessarily establish whether a particular person poses an unacceptable risk. That question requires a careful examination of the individual evidence, not merely an appeal to the number or standing of those who signed the letter.
Nevertheless, the breadth of professional experience among the signatories makes it difficult to dismiss the letter as uninformed advocacy. The signatories have relevant expertise in many of the fields implicated by the controversy, and their concerns deserve a substantive response.
The central issue is not whether a university should ignore credible threats to student safety. It plainly should not. Nor should a person’s admission to a law school be treated as immunity from reasonable restrictions necessary to protect others.
The harder question is whether exclusion was necessary and proportionate in this case, and whether McGill can reconcile its safety obligations with its educational responsibilities and its stated commitments to Indigenous reconciliation.
Those questions require more than slogans on either side. Ewert’s circumstances, the information available to the university, the nature of the identified risks and the effectiveness of less restrictive safeguards all matter. The open letter itself does not resolve those questions, but it explains why they must be examined carefully.
Another issue should concern anyone interested in the future of the legal profession. A law school is not simply a place where students memorize statutes and learn courtroom procedure. It is where future lawyers confront difficult questions about justice, punishment, individual rights, and the relationship between law and society. Someone with direct experience of the correctional system could contribute to that education, although the value of that contribution does not eliminate legitimate safety concerns.
The letter warrants serious consideration because it brings relevant professional knowledge and lived experience to a question that fear or sympathy alone cannot answer. McGill should explain the basis of its decision, consider whether proportionate safeguards can address the concerns, and demonstrate how its actions align with its stated commitments.
Reconciliation cannot mean sacrificing safety. But safety cannot become an unquestioned justification for exclusion. The challenge for McGill is to show it can protect its community while making decisions grounded in evidence, individual circumstances and principles it is prepared to defend publicly.
John L. Hill practised and taught prison law until his retirement. He holds a JD from Queen’s and an LLM in constitutional law from Osgoode Hall. He is also the author of Pine Box Parole: Terry Fitzsimmons and the Quest to End Solitary Confinement (Durvile & UpRoute Books). His most recent book, Acts of Darkness
(Durvile & UpRoute), was shortlisted as one of five nominees for the Crime Writers of Canada’s Brass Knuckles Award for Best Nonfiction Crime Book.
Contact him at johnlornehill@hotmail.com.
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